You Can't Blame Gravity
by CoffeeWithConsequences
Summary: As their relationship grows, Arthur and Eames take a tropical vacation together. One night they sit on the beach and tell one another about their past loves. (112 Words for Deception universe)


The beach vacation was Eames' idea. It was just a few days, and Arthur had a hard time turning down anywhere warm, so he agreed, and left the planning to Eames. Eames decided on St. Vincent, in a place more village than town where he'd landed by accident once before. The people there were kind and not too curious, the weather was perfect, the sea was smooth, and he'd always been fascinated by the black sand.

They stayed in what Eames swore to Arthur was an AirBnB, but was really an abandoned fishing shack. He figured it wouldn't matter that they didn't have deluxe accommodations, as they'd mostly lay on the beach and have sex-hard even for Arthur to find fault with that.

The trip went exactly as Eames envisioned. For four days, they slept late, kissed ridiculously often, and were always sticky with breadfruit and carambola. Arthur's slavish devotion to SFP 70 kept him from burning, and Eames' skin took on a dark golden glow. They drank Harouin beer all afternoon. On the first day, Arthur abandoned his pomade. By the third, he let his laptop battery die.

On their last night on the island, Eames insisted they join a small party of locals having a bonfire on the beach. They cooked fish over the open flames and ate it with their hands, and a bong went around the small circle again and again. Eames was fairly neutral on the subject of marijuana-he'd smoke when it came up, but never really sought it out. He was surprised to see Arthur hesitate for a moment, then grab the bong, rather than waving it past. As he sputtered around his first awkward hit and handed the bong to Eames, Eames couldn't help the sudden wave of affection that washed over him. This infuriating, brilliant, beautiful man, smoking pot on a beach with him. He wanted to laugh, but that may have just been at Arthur's choking on the smoke.

Hours later, the party long disbanded, Arthur and Eames were still on the sand, watching the dark ocean. They'd both smoked more than they'd intended, and neither of them felt inclined to move anytime soon. Arthur was sitting with his knees pulled up, his arms wrapped around them, like a child. Eames lay on this back, facing the sky, mindless of the sand in his hair.

They'd been quiet for quite a while, their conversation dying down naturally and comfortably. Eames thought he should say something, tell Arthur what a fun trip it had been, and how much he appreciated being trusted with the planning, and Arthur being willing to be flexible about what he considered a vacation. He didn't say anything, though. He could tell Arthur tomorrow.

When Arthur spoke, his voice was quiet and melodic, matching the gentle lapping of the waves. "Was Polly the first time you ever fell in love?"

It wasn't a question Eames expected. Arthur hadn't mentioned Polly at all on this trip, which seemed a blessing. Still, if he wanted to talk about her now, Eames wasn't going to refuse him. After everything she'd tried, and the ways Eames fucked up, Arthur had a right to ask his questions. He tried to concentrate on his answer, though his head was still clouded. "No," he said, thinking back. "I was in secondary the first time I fell in love."

"High school love doesn't count," Arthur snorted.

"Oh, but it does," Eames said. "Nothing will break your heart like love that early. That's when you still believe in fairy tales."

Arthur shook his head. "That wasn't what I was asking…"

Eames laughed. "Do you want to hear this story, or not?"

Arthur sighed. "Sure. Yes. Tell me about your high school sweetheart."

Eames made a displeased noise, but continued. "His name was James. He was a completely unremarkable lad. Average height, sandy haired, freckled. He was quiet and a good student and no trouble…"

"The opposite of you, then?"

"Precisely. And I adored him. Being gay was more of a problem then, of course, but he was always just sort of fine with it. We were both inexperienced, but we figured it out."

"What happened?"

Eames groaned. "I happened. Fought with my parents, ran away to the city, didn't look back. Never so much as a phone call."

"Jesus, that's cold." Eames was pleased that Arthur at least sounded surprised.

"Yeah. I regret it to this day. But young and completely self-centered, you know? I loved him, but nothing was as important to me as getting out and becoming somebody else."

Arthur nodded. After a moment, Eames began again.

"Next, I fell in love with Stella. I was in London, running short cons, picking pockets, getting into trouble. She was older-seemed a lot older then, but I think she must have been about the age I am now. She was a fence and a bookie, connected to one of the big outfits, but I'm not sure how."

"Wait, how old were you?"

"Seventeen, maybe eighteen?'

"And she was forty?"

"Near there, anyway."

"Good God. OK, go on."

"I was head over fucking heels. She was amazing. She taught me everything I ever learned about how to please a woman, and I was completely, utterly devoted to her." He sighed, remembering. "God, she was a viper."

"What happened with that?"

"She got bored. I think she enjoyed playing teacher, but I was a kid. I didn't hold her interest." Eames glanced over at Arthur, who was watching him seriously. "I was fucking heartbroken. Absolutely crushed. Looking back, it was pathetic, but at the time," he shook his head, "it was everything."

"And then?" Arthur prompted.

"Then I learned to fuck around and not get so attached, for a while," Eames said. "When I joined up, started traveling, I had a lot of fun. But I met someone, an officer, when I had just been promoted to Corporal. Completely in the closet. Married, kids, the whole thing. And it was Stella all over again, only this time with a lot more getting my ass pounded."

Arthur laughed. Eames was grateful for the sound. He wasn't terribly keen on going this far into his memories.

"His name was Daniel-Danny. It didn't last too long. It was a dead end and we both knew it, but once again, I learned a lot and was completely devoted. I was still young, and so full of myself. I thought I could give him some kind of ultimatum."

"Like, ask him to leave his wife?"

Eames chuckled. "Yeah. Can you believe that? Needless to say, that ended it." He sat up so he could meet Arthur's gaze. "Not the greatest history, I guess." He paused, considering. "Much later, there was a girl, in Mombasa. A Kenyan girl. I could have fallen in love with her. She was too young, and too sweet. And I was still to broken." He shrugged.

"Polly?" Arthur asked.

"Polly," Eames confirmed. "Though I was obsessed with her before I knew she was Polly. And there were lots of others, in between. But nobody really stuck. Lots of two week whirlwinds."

Arthur tilted his head back and looked at the sky. Eames waited for him to ask another question, but he didn't seem inclined to do so for quite some time. Finally, he looked at Eames again. "It's always been easy for you, then? Falling in love?"

Eames thought about it. "Yeah. I mean, I've never done it on purpose. It's always just happened. It's like an auto accident I see coming, but can't avoid. Easier to get in than to get out, anyway."

Arthur nodded quietly.

"What about you?" Eames asked. It was unlikely Arthur would tell him much of anything, but since they were here, and sharing secrets, it was worth a try. "When was the first time you fell in love?"

"It's just been the one time," Arthur said, looking for a moment as if he'd intended to say something else but decided against it. "I was...22, I think? In the Marines, but before dreamshare. His name was Shane." He spoke quickly. "This was during Don't Ask, Don't Tell. It was a big secret with a lot of drama. I'd been with people before, of course, but this was so much more...intense."

Eames nodded. "What happened?"

Arthur shrugged. "It was too much. All the worry and sneaking around. I called it off. It would have ended badly anyway."

"Ever practical," Eames mused, lying back down on the sand.

"I guess. In your terms, I saw the accident coming, and I swerved." Arthur shrugged.

"After that?"

"I've had boyfriends, but nothing that wasn't easy to let go of. Once I got started in dream share, it seemed like so much work to hide it." Arthur shrugged. "I wasn't sure it would ever be worth it." Eames noticed how small he looked in this position, his shoulders hunched over his knees.

For a long time, they both went quiet again. Eames wasn't sure what Arthur was thinking, but he felt unspoken words in the air. He wasn't going to say it-he might never say it. Though he didn't often think about Stella or James or Danny, he still thought about Polly and what she'd done to him far too often to invite it back into this life. Still, looking at Arthur next to him, and thinking of the last days, and of the last weeks, and even of the months before that, he wasn't sure he was going to be able to resist it. The accident was in front of him once again, and he knew he could jerk the wheel, he still had time, but he didn't want to. Maybe it would be different this time, with this man. If he stayed the course, he had faith that Arthur would stay it with him, would ride with him wherever it took them.


End file.
